


Unexpected Parenting

by EmeryldLuk



Series: Merryn, Dragon Princess [1]
Category: Brave (2012), Disney Princesses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Disney Princess, Dragons, Gen, Main original character, POV First Person, raised by dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-03 06:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19458343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeryldLuk/pseuds/EmeryldLuk
Summary: Late in the night, I am disturbed by a soldier on the verge of death. He asks for nothing except that I save the child he carries.





	1. Chapter 1

Many years had passed since I had been anything significant. The local villages remembered me, but many now taught that I was a mere legend, denying my existence when children saw me go hunting at night. This never bothered me, for I was getting on in years and my last bout with an over zealous knight had taken it’s toll.

On the nights that I chose to leave my cave, I often saw destruction. Bandits and war ran rampant among the humans. I often heard rumours of great armies to the north from my neighbor, Eiridon. He was young and excitable though, so I took his tales with several grains of salt.

It was on a night when I had already eaten for the week, having devoured two deer but a day earlier, that an intruder arrived. I heard the clink of metal chains dangling with each heavy step in the antechamber as I lay on my side, trying to clean a spot of blood from my turquoise scales.

I sighed. Didn’t modern knights know better than to announce themselves so obviously nowadays? I flicked out my long forked tongue, picking from several good one liners, and got to my feet.

The man standing in the dark with a torch in one hand stank of sweat, blood, and piss. Even if I did ever chance eating a human, he would have been a terrible meal, much thinner than any knight I’d seen before.

I lumbered out of my personal chambers on three good legs and growled.

“It is folly that has brought you to my home, Mortal, for I have not eaten in a fortnight.”

The man swallowed and steeled himself. “Please, I mean no harm. I come in peace.”

I frowned, though he only became more rigid. 

“There is no peace to be had from Humans,” I said, taking another sniff as I picked up on something in his arms, something strange.

His arm lowered as he tried to hold out a bundle with one hand. His legs wobbled. In the change of light, I could see the streaks of blood that ran down his pant leg from a wound in his side. An arrow shaft poked out a couple of inches.

“Please, save her.”

I knew the smell, though I had not encountered it in what felt like eons. In his outstretched hand, he dangled a baby girl, softly asleep. Thank goodness for that, I thought as I remembered the way babies tended to wail.

“Please,” He begged weakly when I said nothing. “The kingdom is gone, her family is dead. Please, even if it’s just her, she should be able to live.”

I leaned in as his arm began to shake. The heat of my breath washed over him and the sleeping baby. His hand dropped a couple inches.

I moved swiftly when his strength gave out. His knees hit the ground. The torch clattered on stone, sputtering. The bundle of cloth hung delicately from one claw.

“What is their name?” I asked.

He gasped, probably from shock. “Merida. She is Merida of DunBroch.”

I peered at the child as she woke. Big blue eyes stared up into my bright golden irises from under a mess of curly red hair. She giggled. It was the lightest sound I could have imagined, like the sound made when the purest of gemstones came together.

“Merida,” I mused quietly, all too aware now of how my voice echoed. “Not a great name, but we can fix that.”

She hiccuped, mouth hanging open.

“Merryn. Yes, much better. I will call you Merryn.” I lifted my head to inquire if the soldier had brought any food only to find he had given in to his injuries. With a sigh, I turned away and hobbled to one of the piles of treasure that lined the eastern wall. 

Half buried under coins a century old and old silverware was a gilded crib. One of the posts was missing the rubies molded into the capped wood, but the silver and gold still shone with vigor.

Merryn scrunched up her face when I unceremoniously dumped coins from within the crib, getting ready to cry. I paused and started to hum a low tune that changed her mood.

There would be things to get. Food to provide. I had no clue if the baby still fed on her mother’s milk or not. For now, I would do what I could. I placed the baby in the crib, leaving her wrappings as a cushion between her and the old wood.

Feeling satisfied with her condition, I returned to the dead soldier and his bags. He carried little, though he had some rations and parcels of what must have been food for the baby. I ignored the gold he carried, and retrieved only what the baby would need.

That seemed to be the cue she had waited for. Merryn began to cry in a soft way. I withheld a groan and went over to her. She looked up at me and cried louder.

It took an hour to get her quiet. Humming a song once more did nothing to settle her nerves, and a quick sniff confirmed that she did not need changing. Offering food only distracted her for a short minute. The only thing that worked was dangling a sapphire necklace over the crib where the light could reflect in it. I settled down nearby, resigned to a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

I felt like I might go insane after a couple days of watching over the tiny human I had adopted. Surprisingly, she did not scream at the sight of me. A very comforting fact. The sound of her crying did still bother my ears.

In my long years, I had only taken interest in humans for amusement. I found them noisy and impatient, and often quite short-sighted with their very short life spans. What I did know was that babies needed regular feeding and usually slept in small chunks throughout the day.

I went through the supplies scavenged from the fallen man. They lasted long enough for me to wonder if I could really do this.

Merryn often woke from her naps at the most inopportune moments.. I do not like having to stop in the midst of sorting through my 9th century collection. Or when I just want to sleep for more than an hour at a time.

When I first ran out of baby food, I fussed, trying to substitute some cooked meat, but Merryn only fussed back. So I waited for her to fall asleep again and left my cave before dark.

I would never call myself vain, but it is not flattering to be called a monster. I’m not as big as the ancients. They love being called monsters and villians. Me, I’m only as big as a large human house, and I take very good care of my scales so as to not get spots or growths.

The humans ran at first upon seeing me fly down from the mountain. I took my time and smelled around for something a baby would like. I only became irritable when some of them returned with weapons.

Sour, with no more food, I returned home in time to attempt consoling the hungry Merryn as she woke from slumber. A lot of this ended up making funny noises that amused her.

My problem was clear. Humans did not keep food for babies anywhere I could get at them with my bulk, and they were more likely to attack than to stop and listen for two seconds. Kidnapping a human was out of the question. That would just attract more of them and ruin everything.

Deep in my network of caverns, there were a lot of nooks and crannies, I had one room where I keep all of the books. I gained them in different manners. Some were salvaged from dead knights, others had been thrown at me in self defense. Occasionally, I met humans that offered me books in exchange for other things, wisdom or objects. I always fondly remember the knight that came to defeat me, only to end up discussing how much he hates his life and only came on the mission to win a fair maiden’s hand in marriage. He gave me a book on flowers upon leaving. Also, I do get visits from the witchy sort. We exchange recipes and spells, or spell ingredients. I often have to wonder at why so many potions require a dragon scale or tooth.

What I wanted then was a spell that would allow me to go down to the humans without invoking fear. Maybe something to make them more placid. This was not something taught by dragons. Why would the ancients want to?

Muttering to myself in draconic, I shuffled through the stacked tomes and scrolls.

“Spells for the Aspiring Hunter, no. Make yourself the most Desirable, heck no. How to win a Maiden’s heart, What in the name of Aspu?” I tossed the book painted with a nude girl across the cavern. It slammed into the wall and fell behind a pile of herbalist tomes.

“Blending in for the aspiring rogue, Maybe. Loki’s Mystical Potions, Maybe. Dancing with the trees, Never.” I gagged, remembering the very flirtatious merchant that had gifted me that one. 

“Reversing Unwanted Curses, not now. Witches of the West, whatever. Oh. Millin’s Guide to Transformation. That could work.” I placed it on top of the two other books I had chosen and hobbled out of the cavern to find a good spot to sprawl.

After several hours of browsing over spells and potions, interrupted by Merryn’s plaintiff wails, I settled on a potion that promised to change my form temporarily.

I nosed around in my pantry for ingredients. Sprigs of sage and enough cilantro to make you sneeze was easy enough, but getting fresh toads meant finding a marsh to wade into. Which meant another hour away from the cave and waiting for Merryn to be asleep.

I got the potion boiling close to midnight. The violet shade reminded me the way some quartz shown in the sun. I took a sniff of the fumes and gagged at the pungent smell of rotten tomatoes.

I looked at Merryn, sleeping on the floor, wrapped in a green wool blanket I had stolen earlier that day. I was a little surprised that I actually wanted this to work. I’d never wanted kids before, much less a partner. The other dragons sneered at me because I was already older than most new parents and hadn’t chosen a mate.

I picked up the cauldron in my claws and drank deep. It tasted as bad as it smelled.

I burped and set down the cauldron. A little flame came up my throat.

I waited, burped again, and then decided to curl up in my bed to wait for the potion to take effect.


	3. Chapter 3

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but there I was, opening my eyes to the sound of Merryn’s cries. They grated less on my ears this morning for some reason. I yawned and wondered if the potion had done something to my hearing. Half asleep I crawled out of the nest of sticks, dinner plates and torn tapestries, not quite understanding why the textures hurt my claws.

It wasn’t until I was leaning over Merryn’s crib that I truly had the notion of what had changed. I was much smaller than I’d used to be, requiring me to stand on my hind legs. That and my pearly turquoise scales had turned pale and pink, no longer hardened against dragon fire. I raised my fore legs, fascinated by the new shape of my paws, no hands, I should be calling them hands, for that was the new form. And my claws were long and bony with short nails perfectly trimmed.

Merryn screamed louder, her stomach rumbling. I reached down and picked her up with both hands. What had once been a bad leg, mangled from having a lance driven through the joint, now was an awkward arm. A scar marked the skin from my elbow to wrist. I struggled for a moment, unable to move it the way I wanted to.

I took a step with Merryn in my hands and wobbled, leaning too far back. It was stranger than anything else to feel how my balance shifted. Not even stranger than realizing the world lacked so much of the color I was used to seeing.

My throat caught when I tried to hum a song, the sound coming out differently than before. I coughed and tried once more with more success.

Swaying with every step, I made my way over to a cracked mirror leaning against the wall. I had acquired it in my youth upon attacking a castle with my siblings. The gold edging was pressed with moonstones.

Instead of my regal scaled form, a frail looking human stared back at me. They were bony at the hips and shoulders. I had no way to know for sure, but my rough estimate put the human form in a late adult age.

I’d need clothes for sure, I realized as I stood there, studying the changes. Humans always went about with clothes on. At least clothes were another thing that I had gathered over the years. Not on purpose. Humans were strange at times and I so dislike to waste much if I can help it.

So, I bundled up Merryn, threw on what looked appropriate and began the long trek down the mountain on foot. Lucky it was a long walk because I felt ridiculous, stumbling to and fro on the winding trail that humans used to get to my cave. It wasn’t even a trail at points, just a sharp slope to slide down or a hill of smooth boulders. I made a mental note to even it out once I got my proper body back.

It was mid afternoon when I wheezed my way into the village. No one ran from me. No one screamed. No one threw things at me. It was nice, though they did stare. Perhaps my clothing choice was a bit off. I never was good at the whole aesthetic thing.

I was exhausted. Walking on two feet was not natural, I’m sure. How humans did it all the time, I couldn’t fathom. I stopped by the side of a house I’d seen so many times from a different perspective and sat down. Merryn looked up at me, her blue eyes sad.

“It’s okay,” I said to her quietly so no one would hear the draconic words.

“Are you alright?”

I looked up into a tired face framed by brown curls. I hesitated to respond.

“Oh, you have a child. Why don’t you come inside and take a break.”

“Um, I, Do you, I don’t want to intrude.” I swallowed. How do you communicate with humans without needing to terrorize them into submission?

She frowned and said in a tone that reminded me of my own mother, rest her soul, “Now that just won’t do. You look exhausted and you’re carrying a baby. I’ll fix you some hot soup.”

Getting back up proved to be painful as needles shot down my legs. The woman smiled kindly and helped me into her home. It was cozy, with a pot over the fire. She guided me to an old, hand-made chair by the open window and hustled about for a bowl and spoon.

“Boy or Girl,” she asked.

“Uh, what?”

“The baby, what’s their name?”

“Merryn,” I answered. “I call her Merryn.”

“Sounds odd. Are you from far away?”

“You could say that.” She handed me a bowl full of soup from the cookpot. I fumbled a moment to nestle Merryn into the crook of my bad arm so I could drink from the bowl.

“And her mother?”

“Dead.” I took a breath. “Her parents are gone.”

“Oh.” The woman was taken aback. “I’m sorry. She’s not yours?”

“No, but I’m all she has.” Merryn squirmed in my hold. I nearly dumped my soup on the dirt floor in an attempt to keep my grip. “I’m sorry, but do you have anything for her? It’s been a full day since she’s eaten.”

“We can give her broth. Have you had any children of your own?” The woman bent once more by the cookpot.

“No. I never married. This is all a bit new.” I felt a little glad that the woman was so kind. It made it easier to speak. “I tried to feed her some meat, but,”

“-but she wouldn’t take.” The woman pulled up another chair by the small table. “May I?”

I hesitated, suddenly afraid to let go of Merryn. The woman, however, looked no more dangerous than any other time, so I leaned forward to let her take Merryn into her arms.

Merryn whimpered, not thrilled about being passed off. The woman crooned softly, love in her eyes.

“My name is Ailri, by the way.”

“It is nice to meet you.” I drank more of the soup, more out of a sense that it would be the polite thing to do. It also felt good to feel the heat soaking into my chest when I swallowed.

Ailri coaxed Merryn with soft words into drinking the broth from a spoon. I would need to modify the method for when I was back in my original body. I’d never manage to spoon feed Merryn with such delicate movements and my claws. I peered at my fingers.

“You’ll need to mash up her food until her teeth come in,” The woman advised. “Soups or stews are really good for that since you can boil vegetables into mush.”

“Soups or stews. Got it.” I lifted my bowl, but didn’t drink. “What kind of vegetables?”

She looked up a light in her eyes that worried me. “Carrots, beets, potatoes, turnips. The usual things.”

“How do I find these things?”

“You’ve never gone foraging before?”

I shook my head. “More of a hunter myself.”

“Well,” Ailri explained, “Most are roots. You find them by digging them up.”

“Oh, of course.”

“There we go,” she crooned to Merryn. “Eat up, little one.”


	4. Chapter 4

The transformation lasted much longer than I thought it would, but that gave me time to figure out a method for feeding Merryn. Using some of my many treasures, I fused together the metal for a drip feeder, and I could use magic to liquify food for her.

The first week was stressful. I constantly worried about suddenly transforming in a space I wouldn’t normally fit into, or while holding Merryn. I wondered how it would happen and if being asleep was a requirement.

The second week had me thinking less about potential tragedy and more about adjustments to be made. The crib had to be moved somewhere better lit and warmer. I needed mclothes for her, and bedding for the crib. It was an extensive project, redecorating the cave to accommodate the new member.

By the third week, I kept double checking the potion instructions, wondering if I’d done something wrong in making it. Every time I came up empty on answers.

Merryn thrived, in a bubbly energetic way, much like any young dragon. I should know. I was a spirited dragonling myself, always getting into messes.

Twice, I discovered Merryn had climbed out of her crib and rolled over the ground. This was strange to watch, though I eventually figured out I should put her back in the crib. Humans are rather fragile.

When a month came around I gave up on hoping the potion would wear off on its own. I went tearing through my books again in search of answers to no avail. Luckily, I happened to know where one of my more regular witch customers lived in the northern forests. Hadn’t seen her in years, but she was too gnarly a person to keel over any time soon.

Having never had a human form before, I nearly went crazy with the idea that I needed to pack things for a journey. What would I need? How long would it take? What was the conversion rate from flight time to walking time? How much nutrition would I need for Merryn?

After packing, unpacking, packing again, and then fussing over the details. I needed a map for one, something that I had never been able to acquire much of. The two maps I did have were a map for some mythical treasure off the coast of the English Sea, and a hundred year old map of Normandy.

A little dithering over my travel plans left me pacing blankly in my personal caverns. I eventually gave up on planning perfectly, and opted for a little improvisation. I repacked lightly and tied Merryn to my back with a blanket.

My first stop was the local village. Though they had no maps, Ailri introduced me to a hunter that could point me down the right roads. Not a chatty human, which suited me just fine. The hunter guided me to the first crossroad and indicated which way to go.

I took a break at a crook in the road to rest and feed Merryn. There was little else to occupy me as we walked. Yet so much to catch my human eyes. I had never seen birds so close before. Nor had I ever been able to smell the flowers.

Merryn giggled happily when i gave her a pretty purple bloom to hold. I stood on the trail watching her with fascination until my logic got the better of me.

I stopped for the night when the sky began to darken. With nothing of note nearby, I stepped off the road and settled in between to large trees with their exposed roots covered in moss.

I awoke, cold and sore in the middle of the night. Merryn huddled to my chest, shivering. My eyes took minutes to adjust, but when they did, I could see the stars overhead. I shifted, covering Merryn more with the blanket and tried to get back to sleep.

I began the day with a meal, more for Merryn than for myself. Oddly enough, as a human, I still felt as full as I would have in my original form. She unhappily ate, and splattered a good portion of the mashed apples on herself. I frowned.

“What good is food if you won’t consume it, Merryn?” I grumbled in Draconic. “It is to be eaten, not art material.”

She burbled in response. I stared at her, fascinated by the way her irises shifted shades in the light.

I trekked onward under a partially cloudy sky. By midday, the clouds overhead had multiplied. Drops of water touched my skin. I looked upward and rain struck my eye. I blinked furiously.

Out of the underbrush stepped a scruffy looking group of humans wearing mismatched sets of armor. Most had burnished red hair and thickly bearded faces.

“Hello?”

One stepped forward, his bulky gut protruding over his belt. I ran a finger down my jaw.

“Dangerous to travel alone, Old Man.”

“I’m not that old,” I muttered.

“Hand over your valuables and we’ll be on our way.”

I frowned. “Why do you want my child?” I inquired.

He rolled his eyes. “Not the child, your money, Fool.”

“I have no money,” I said.

“Jewelry?”

“What use would I have for chains or rings? They are but baubles.”

His face was turning as red as his hair. “Then what do you have?”

“I have my life and the life of Merryn. I need nothing more, same as you all. Do you not value life?”

“Life is important,” one of his followers piped. “But we cannot live without money, which we thought you had.”

I shook my head. “I have none. May I pass?”

“You’ve got to have something!” The overweight leader insisted, brandishing his battle axe.

“Pops! Are we really going to threaten a grandpa?” the skinniest of the bunch argued, “We should just jump someone else.”

Merryn chose that exact moment to wake up and demand attention. Under the awkward eyes of my ambushers, I let her down from my back. She cried louder as I tried to comfort her.

“Shhh.” I cradled her in my arms. “What’s the matter, Merryn?”

“Might she need a changing?” Another inquired.

I disagreed, “Cleaned her up this morning. Merryn, my sweet.” Under my breath, I whispered a spell to calm her. Like a breath of fresh air, her cries became soft trills of amusement.

Disgruntled, the axe bearing man motioned his band aside. “Get on then, Old Man. Before I change my mind.”


	5. Chapter 5

The small one level cottage lay nestled under the thick roots of three trees on a bank of earth overlooking the hollow. Soft, blue grass made for a plush cushion to walk on up to the oaken door.

I pushed aside one sideways growing bush and stepped down into the hollow. I carried Merryn in my arms, her blanket draped over my shoulder.

“Hello?” I looked around at the greenery and lit upon a raven perched over the window. It fluttered its wings and screeched at me. “Hello, I am here to speak with Mier.”

The raven screeched and pecked on the roof behind it. Merryn squealed with delight.

“Is that a baby I hear?” An aged woman’s voice called from within the cottage. I pushed the door inwards and ducked inside.

The open maw of a wooden bear’s head stared down at me from the opposing wall. A wall covered in smaller animal carvings. A carving wheel sat on the shelf with a half carved figurine upon it.

The woman was half of my height, dressed in her usual dark garb, her curly gray hair neatly up in a bun. She peered at me with hazel eyes.

“Need a toy for your grandchild?” She inquired.

“No, Mier, I need a spell, for me. Merryn is fine.”

“Do I know you?”

I cleared my throat and responded in draconic, “Amicably, Mier. We have a working relationship.”

Her eyebrows twitched. “Southern accent. You’re the one from East of Llyorn.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you human?”

I hesitated a moment and then thrust Merryn into her arms. Mier scowled at me as I opened the bag of my supplies.

“I had to make myself smaller. No other way to get food for her. Here it is. I used the potion on page thirteen.” I pulled out the tome and held it out. Mier traded Merryn back and flipped through the book.

“This book,” she said, “is not meant for dragons.”

“Nothing is meant for dragons, Mier. Can you fix this?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I need to study this. Go over there, and take the child with.”

I took a step back and nearly tripped over a block of uncarved rosewood. Mier shot me an annoyed look. Embarrassed, I sat down with my legs crossed between a two foot tall statue of a cat and a carving that resembled what might have been a fish.

Merryn reached out and grabbed hold of a carving of a snake. With a gleeful noise, she pulled it off it’s shelf and threw it across the room.

“Hands off the merchandise.”

“Sorry. Will not happen again.” I moved Merryn in my lap so she couldn’t reach any more statuettes.

“Better not,” Mier muttered and turned back to the book. She paced in a tight square formation between the walls on the other side of the cottage. I watched her, curious as to what was going through her little head.

Merryn squirmed out of my hands and crawled over my knees. I blinked and leaned forward, only to miss my grip as she crawled out of reach.

“Merryn, come back here,” I uttered in draconic. She, instead of listening, made her way over to the shelf and proceeded to pull a small owl down. I pushed onto my knees and crawled over to her.

“Merryn.” I picked her up and pried the carving from her fingers before she could do anything else with it. “That is not for you.”

She cried, trying to get the owl back. I set it on the shelf and moved back into the corner.

“Alright,” Mier said, coming over to me. “Good news and Bad news.”

“Bad news?”

“The potion you made is permanent. Due to the difference in human and draconic biology, I cannot reverse the effect.”

My heart fell. How could this be?

“The good news?”

“I can make you a potion that will allow you to change back.” She took a breath.

I licked my lips. “Okay, why does it sound like there’s more?”

“Nothing is perfect, my old friend. Nothing is perfect. Do you want me to make it?”

“Yes!” I blurted. “This body is frail and tiresome. It is not right for me.”

“Good. Then payment.”

“Didn’t exactly bring any of my treasure with me.”

“A couple of scales would do after you turn back.” She waved a hand noncommittally. “Now, out, out.”

I blinked and she furiously shooed me back out the door. She shut the door, waved her hand and uttered a few words.

Upon reentering the cottage, the inside had been transformed. Plants and ceramic jars low lined the shelves instead of carvings. A large black cauldron was the centerpiece of the room.

Mier shuffled over to the wall and plucked down a handful of leaves from one pot and a pinch of something else, tossing it into the cauldron. I stood to the side as she repeated this around the room, adding bits of what looked like toads and an eagle’s eyeball. She snapped her fingers and the ladle lifted into the pot, stirring slowly.

“You’ll want to take this in a large space. Rapid transformation is a bit rough. Might break something. Oh, and be ready to be hungry. I suggest you have a meal on hand just in case.” Mier sniffed at her work. “Nothing like hunting on an empty stomach I hear.”

“Good to know. Any other side effects?”

“Well, as I said, nothing is perfect. If you don’t transform back into a human every now and then, you’ll be forced to.”

“Forced to?”

“Counteracting a permanent potion is not easy.” She poked at me with a bony finger. “If you had simply come to me first, we would not be having this problem.”

“Too late for wishing,” I said with a look at Merryn who was staring at the bats hanging from the ceiling.

“Very true.” She prodded the cauldron and nodded to herself. She snapped her fingers. Green smoke surrounded the cauldron and when it faded, a meat pie floated in its place.

“What is that?”

“A pie. Human delicacy, but it makes it easier to take the potion.” She took the pie in hand and placed it in mine. “Eat it and you will return to your original form.”

I considered the circular treat with some skepticism. While it smelled vaguely of roasted boar, The crust left much to be desired.

“Thank you, Mier.”

“Just remember to come to me first next time. Oh and a couple of your scales. I’ve been running low.”

I scowled. “Yes, my scales. I will be back.” I bowed awkwardly, trying to not dump Merryn on the ground in the process. This would hardly be so difficult as a dragon.

I walked for awhile through the forest before choosing a location to transform in. At the turning of the river, several boulders crossed the waters, and a storm had knocked down a couple of trees on one side. I set Merryn on the ground in the shade with my bag and took out the pie. It still smelled odd, but if the witch said to eat, I would eat.

I stripped out of my human clothes and stepped into the river. The chill threatened to turn my bones to ice. I shuddered and focused on how none of that would bother me in a moment. I would see the beauty of the world again. I would be able to touch the clouds and skim the mountains. I would no longer feel the ache in my back that came from so much travel. I longed for the thrill of a hunt that did not involve archaic weapons.

In three bites, the horrid pie was consumed and I changed.

**Author's Note:**

> The next installment is being worked on. Temp titled "Whispers" three year old Merryn will get to meet her draconic cousins and spend some quality time together


End file.
